PREVIEW
... ragon Mountain fell into silence.
The apocalyptic crimson sky calamity, which had shrouded a hundred thousand li, completely dissipated under Xiao Yi’s one sword strike—a man and his sword, breaking through the calamity that had left countless mighty figures terrified and helpless.
Xiao Yi’s figure stood in midair, his black robe fluttering with the wind, rustling loudly.
In his flowing long hair, each strand seemed like a sword capable of slaying gods and demons.
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